Hey Babe
by frostygossamer
Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'. Warnings inside. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

* * *

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an Earth like Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

* * *

Hey Babe (Part 1) by frostygossamer

* * *

Castiel's life in Holy City was perfectly peachy.

The minor heavenly official's romance with the very 'important' Gabriel had been coming along very nicely. The little archangel still spent a lot of his time down on Earth, on the Father's divine business, but he visited with his new angel lover whenever he got the time. This, as far as Castiel was concerned, just wasn't often enough.

Seeing as Gabriel's mud-monkey, Sam, was obviously getting on so well with Castiel's pet, Dean, the angel had soon offered to look after him full-time. Castiel really thought poor Sam shouldn't have to stay in kennels, as he usually did when his master was away. Since Gabriel was away much too often to give his loyal Sam the attention he deserved, Castiel was only too glad to help.

Kindly Castiel really did not like the idea of kennels much at all. He would never have been happy to leave his own good boy in what, he imagined, were such cruel places. He didn't think Gabriel's gentle and lollopy Sam deserved it either.

This new arrangement pleased Castiel's Dean majorly. The two mud-monkeys had become good friends, with benefits, and he got to have Sam around all the time. Dean considered himself a natural Alpha, and it was good to have his new Beta where he could keep his eye on him. Brought up quietly by Castiel ever since he was a mud-pup, Dean had never known exactly how lonely, or indeed how sexually deprived, he had been before he met the big horny muddie. He was totally making the most of the opportunity.

Living with Dean made Sam very happy too, and he wasn't averse to proving it frequently and thoroughly, whenever Dean would let him. Dean was inclined to let him often, because he had discovered that furking with the big muddie was his favourite thing, after eating of course.

~xXx~

With TWO large domestic creatures in residence, Castiel's little apartment had proved something of a tight squeeze. That had prompted the influential Gabriel to pull some celestial strings and find his steady a nice little house in a much sought-after, leafy suburb of Holy City. The house had a lovely spacious lawned back yard, lots of room for two active mud-monkeys to run around in. Castiel moved right in over the next weekend.

Castiel was very pleased that his mud-monkeys wouldn't have to be kept indoors so much of the time. Although he did worry whether the eternal heavenly sunshine might harm their naked pink hides, since they naturally hated to wear mudcoats. He knew pale skinned muddies were particularly susceptible to sunburn.

For his part, Sam was delighted to find they had so much yard at their disposal. He LOVED to run.

"Freakin' awesome," he declared, when he first set eyes on it. "Plenty space for runnin'. LOVE to run!"

Running was Sam's third favourite thing, after eating and fricking with Dean. Dean was a little less certain. He had always lived in the tiny apartment that Castiel had brought him home to as a mud-pup. He hated change.

"Don't know why we need a freakin' back yard, mudz," he grumbled.

"Dude, I can think of ONE reason," Sam declared, hunkering his bare butt down in the flowerbed. "Way better than a skanky litter tray!"

Dean scoffed. He wasn't so sure HE wanted his doings to be at one with nature. He was even LESS sure when found his personal convenience had somehow ended up in the TRASH. As they had a private back yard, Castiel had assumed there would no longer be any necessity for Dean to use a litter tray indoors, and he had JUNKED it.

"Oh, great! Now I gotta freakin' poop in the yard," Dean mumbled huffily.

The back yard was actually very nice, with a well-tended lawn surrounded by a border of baby's breath and fancy shrubbery. Castiel's property was separated from his new neighbour's yard by a fairly tall fence. It happened that the fence wasn't so tall that the extra large Sam couldn't see over it easily. However, Dean, being a little shorter, had to go right up to it and stretch up on his tippytoes.

Ever hyper-aware of security issues, Dean judged that the fence was just about low enough for a fit mud-monkey to climb. In an absolute emergency, that was.

~xXx~

Castiel was delighted with the new house. He was somewhat less delighted with his new neighbour.

Zachariah was a pompous angel with an unpleasant disposition. Castiel popped next door and tried to introduce himself on the day he moved in, just to be friendly, but he was greeted with a sneer and a rather too brusque handshake.

"Not a nice person," Castiel told his muddies on his return. "You two boys better keep down the noise. I don't need any problems with a neighbour like him."

Dean looked at Sam blankly. Sam translated, with his astonishing grasp of Enochian.

"Guess Master says YOU better be freakin' quiet, mudz. Grumpy angel next door don't like noisy."

"That'd be YOU," Dean returned, outraged. "'S YOU who's the freakin' noisy one, not me."

Dean classified himself as a guard-mudder and, as such, prided himself on his silent but deadly skills.

Sam made a face. "Dude, like when am I EVER noisy?" he demanded.

"Just ALL the damn time," Dean commented, sashaying away. "Freakin' loud-ass," he added, under his breath.

Sam harrumphed. "Smart-ass," he retorted to Dean's retreating heinie.

~xXx~

At their first opportunity, the two muddies explored their new home. After checking out the kitchen, living room, dining room and hall, they climbed the stairs and investigated the bathroom. They noted the bath, shower, sink and handy low-level drinking facilities. Then they took a peek in the bedrooms, noticing how their bare feet sank into the soft carpeting, but found nothing of particular interest in there.

However, on the upstairs landing, "Dude, what's this?" Sam asked, pointing at a mysterious closed door.

Dean experimentally tugged at the door handle and found it opened easily. Inside it turned out to be a carpeted walk-in linen closet with shelves. Although small, it seemed almost big enough to lie down in, corner to corner. The floor was covered with a leftover piece of the same thick, deep pile carpet from the master bedroom. Sam pushed his way inside and spread himself out on the rug. The warm wooliness felt good under his naked back.

"Co-zy," he remarked.

Dean came inside with him and plopped his butt on the floor at Sam's feet.

"Not roomy enough for sporkin', dude," he pronounced.

"Dunno," Sam responded, his curiosity piqued. "Why not give it a try."

He got up on all fours and wriggled his bare behind in the air invitingly. "Poke away, mudz."

Always willing to try a new position, Dean kneeled behind him, slicked up his instrument and carefully inserted it between his companion's ready buttocks.

"My bad," he corrected himself. "Mmm, 's real accommodatin' in here."

"Room or butt?" Sam asked, confused.

"Both," Dean answered from behind, moving his hips rhythmically. "Du-ude, 's warm and wonderful snug."

"Which... ooh... one?" Sam demanded, between tiny groans of pleasure.

"Both agin, mudz," Dean murmured happily. "But, mhm, mostly your hot freakin' butt."

When Castiel came to store his stuff in the linen closet later, he was mystified by a strange sticky mark on the carpet. He had to assume it had been made by the house's former owners.

~xXx~

The following day there came a revelation.

Sam and Dean had the run of the new house. Castiel had even had a mud-flap installed in his backdoor so they could go in and out whenever they wanted. Fascinated with this new toy, they spent one whole morning running in and out every five minutes until they got bored with the game.

Later, they were out in the back yard, puttering around while their master made lunch, because they could, when what should they hear but a fe-mudly voice.

"Coo-ee," called the voice from behind the backyard fence.

Sam wandered across and peered over the divider. In the next yard he found the voice belonged to a pretty mud-chick, in fact a damned attractive mud-chick. Sam ran an appreciative eye over her flawless figure, nude, obviously, except for a big sparkly bow in her long, lustrous dark hair.

"Hi," he said, treating her to a dimpled smile. "How you doin'?"

"Ooh, 'lo there, big boy," she replied, running over. "Where'd you come from, sweetie?"

"We just moved in," Sam explained. "With our Master. Yesterday."

"We?" she asked, fluttering her lashes.

"Yeah, me and my buddy Dean," he replied.

Hearing his name, Dean became curious. He dropped his burger-shaped chew-toy and came over to join in the conversation. Being a little shorter than Sam, he had to stretch right up on his toes to see over the fence, his perky nipples rubbing up against the rough wood.

"Whassup?" he asked.

"Ooh, another boy," the mudette chirped happily. "'Lo there, Dean."

"Hey," Dean responded.

"And I'm Sam," Sam contributed, just in case he had been forgotten.

The female mud-monkey was clearly delighted to find herself in the company of a couple good-looking males. She twisted her silky hair and wriggled her hips seductively.

"Well, 'lo Dean AND Sam," she said. "I'm Lisa."

"You're pretty, Lisa," Dean congratulated her, ever silver-tongued.

"I KNOW," Lisa replied, preening. "Won PRIZES for bein' pretty."

"Prizes?" Sam wondered. "What's 'prizes'?"

Dean wondered vaguely if prizes were maybe something like rewards. Rewards meaning food!

"Cups and stuff," Lisa explained. "Presents for my Master. He's VERY proud of me."

Dean was a little disappointed by no food being involved, but Sam was impressed.

"You must be good, ifn your Master's PROUD," he said admiringly.

Lisa gave him a sunny smile. "Sure AM," she agreed.

"My Master's proud of ME," Dean piped up suddenly, not wanting to be outdone.

Sam grinned at him. "'Course Master's proud of you," he said. "Dude, you're freakin' ADORABLE."

Dean was a little taken aback by the unexpected compliment. Lisa studied him with renewed interest. Her smile widened.

"Wanna hop over and PLAY?" she asked, accompanying that last word with a wink of invitation.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. In mud-monkey society it would have been VERY impolite to turn down such a blatant offer of sex. But, before they could work out how best to scale the fence, they heard Castiel calling from inside the house.

"DEAN?! SAM?! Come and get it, boys!"

Food! Dean smiled at Lisa apologetically. "Master callin'," he said.

Lisa knew what that meant. Loyal mud-monkeys ALWAYS came when they were called.

"Yeah, gotta go," Sam added, as they pulled themselves away.

Female forgotten, the two mud-monkeys raced each other inside to eat.

~xXx~

By the next weekend, Castiel's archangel boyfriend was back in town. Castiel was happy as a clam, because Gabriel had been carrying out his Father's business on Earth for a couple weeks and Castiel had missed him every single day. And night.

As usual, the two angels took their pets to the Elysian Fields park for a relaxing stroll.

Dean and Sam loved to go to the park for a run around. Dean loved to gate-crash the little cherubs' ball games. He was very fond of mud-pups and cherubs, and all kinds of baby creatures. They brought out his nesting instincts. Sam still enjoyed harassing pretty angels, something that his master had taught him to do, back in the days when Gabriel was still single and looking to hook up.

Castiel and Dean didn't know it, but it hadn't been exactly an accident that Sam had knocked the angel over, the day they had all met. Gabriel had been eyeing up Castiel for a while, and Sam had been doing the same with Dean for even longer.

"How are you finding the house, Cas honey? Great, huh?" Gabriel asked his boyfriend.

"The house is wonderful, Gabe," Castiel answered, enthusiastically. "Only problem is the grouchy next door neighbour."

Bumptious Zachariah hadn't made a very pleasant impression on the nervous Castiel.

"Oh yeah," Gabriel agreed. "Bumped into HIM when I looked the place over with the realtor. Kinduva stuffed shirt, huh?"

"He IS a little self-important," Castiel chuckled. "That's why I wondered if he was maybe... an archangel?"

Gabriel huffed away that ridiculous idea. Like an archangel had to be grouchy. HE was an archangel and he was heaps of fun.

"Archangel shmarchangel," he sneered. "Guy's just a jumped-up functionary from Planning. All piss and wind. Just you don't take any crap from him, Cas baby. He's an ass-hat."

"Um, I'd rather got that impression," agreed Castiel.

After letting off some steam, and completing the necessary toilet functions, the two pets trotted obediently after their masters, heading to enjoy a bite of lunch on their favourite park bench, close by the Elysian Cafe.

~xXx~

"Humble-bumble-gumble," mumbled Sam, as he trotted along at Dean's side.

Dean shot him a sideways glance. "What ya got that freakin' frisbee in your mouth fur?" he demanded.

Sam took the yellow plastic object he had been carrying out of his mouth and tucked it under his arm.

"Dunno, mudz," he said. "Seemed like a good place."

Dean shook his head, incredulous. "Freakin' dumb-ass," he snickered.

As they progressed through the park, the two mud-monkeys ran on a little ahead of their masters, bumping up against each other playfully as they went. Then, horror, when they got close to their special bench, they found it already occupied by a large sprawling mud-monkey. He wore a scar over his nose and a vicious glint in his eye. His sun-darkened skin was burned and roughened by too much exposure to the weather and too little looking after.

The nameless trespasser was evidently some damn STRAY! Dean switched into guard-mud mode.

"Hey, bud, that's OUR spot. Move it, if you know what's freakin' good for ya!" he growled, baring his teeth.

The feral mud-monkey simply stretched and sat up straight, fixing him with an evil glare.

"Was here first," he declared. "Wanna start sumthin', huh? Pooch-ass!"

Dean felt deeply insulted by the epithet. He was so NOT a pooch-ass. Being enviably sleek and well-groomed didn't make him some lap-muddie. HE was a guard-mudder, and a DAMN good one.

"Mangy freakin' mudderfricker!" he barked, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

"Pansy-puss!" the stray flung straight back acidly.

The vicious mudder had a certain flair with on-target insults. Grrr! Dean's hackles were definitely up. Sam came up to stand at his side supportively.

He huffed his bangs out of his eyes, and chipped in darkly, "There's TWO of us to one of you, bud. Just scat, would ya."

The ugly customer gave no indication that he intended to scat quietly. He showed his broken teeth in a nasty grimace.

"MAKE ME!" he challenged.

At this point Castiel turned to Gabriel with a worried look on his face.

"This creature looks dangerous," he said. "I do wish we'd kept the pets on the leash, Gabe. They could get hurt."

Gabriel nodded. "I'll go get a couple park rangers," he said and vanished.

Two seconds later he was back with the park rangers, to find Castiel sitting on the grass stroking Dean, who was panting and looking wildly triumphant. The stray mud-monkey was laying spread-eagled on the ground, blood pouring from a ragged wound in his neck, badly hurt. Sam was crouched down staring daggers at the interloper, his lip curled in a snarl.

"Hey, Cas, what went down?" a surprised Gabriel demanded.

"Dean BIT him," Castiel answered simply. "My BRAVE little soldier."

~xXx~

To celebrate Dean's triumph, Gabriel ordered a box of tempting French pastries from the cafe. These were thoroughly enjoyed by the two angel sitting deliberately on THEIR bench and the two mud-monkeys laying on the ground underneath.

The four of them had been there a while when who should come along but snooty Zachariah with his glammed-up mud-chick, Lisa, trotting on her leash behind him, nose in the air. As they passed by Castiel took in the female creature's garish getup and turned to Gabriel.

"I know he shows her in competition, Gabe, but I still don't hold with this business of dressing up your pets in silly costumes," he whispered. "Dean has a winter coat, but sequins..."

"Reckon it's hilarious," Gabriel commented. "Look at her ittle bitty shoes."

The mudette was straight from the grooming parlour, dressed to the nines in red satin peephole brassiere and matching ruffled crotchless panties. She had a sweet little fascinator clipped to her carefully coiffured hair. On her feet she wore tiny, shiny gold slippers.

"Yes, the shoes ARE going a bit far," Castiel agreed.

Sam and Dean eyed the yummy-looking mud-chick from under the bench, their tongues hanging out.

"Freakin' TASTY!" Dean exclaimed.

"UH-HUH!" Sam agreed.

~xXx~

That night, as Sam and Dean lay curled up together in their sleeping basket, Dean felt restless. Memories of the day's fight flitted around in his imagination. He heaved a sudden loud sigh.

"What, dude?" Sam asked, hugging his friend tight around the waist.

"That mudder," Dean hissed. "Dude was a jerk-ass. Askin' for a freakin' bitin'."

Dean reckoned he wasn't really a biter but sometimes... SOMETIMES... his righteous anger got the better of him!

"Sure was," Sam agreed. "And you gave it to him but good, mudz," he added proudly.

"Yeah, the sonuva. We showed him, huh?" Dean's nerves thrummed as he relived the battle. "Slammed him. Beat on the sucker. Sank my teeth in his filthy freakin' neck."

"Made one big freakin' mistake tanglin' with us, he did. Fixed his freakin' wagon," Sam agreed enthusiastically. "Make one helluva team, mudz."

Sam felt justifiably proud of his new Alpha.

"Love me a good fight," Dean declared, adrenaline again racing through his veins. "Makes me so super-freakin'-HORNY."

"Yeah, yeah, me too," Sam concurred.

Dean's eyes met Sam's and they were huge. "Wanna sixty-nine?" he panted.

Sam wholeheartedly agreed, "Hell YEAH!"

Dean squiggled around, so he was upside-down against Sam's warm, naked skin, and nuzzled at Sam's member, eagerly drawing it into his mouth. A galvanizing thrill shot up his spine as he felt the moist warmth of Sam's lips around his. Dean growled soft and low as he sucked. He felt like a mud-pup at its mother's teat, except that Sam's appendage was somewhat more generously proportioned to any mere teat.

Dean loved this. His nerves had him all wound up like a coiled spring, he needed something, to be petted, to be stroked, to be sucked, to calm his jangling nerves. Sam gentled him so perfectly, as the big muddie lovingly mouthed at him and absorbed a tasty serving of his friend's liquid essence.

"Dude, you could raise munchkins on that milk. Freakin' delicious," Sam murmured appreciatively.

Dean sniggered around Sam's member, an orgasmic sensation Sam discovered, as his release burst forth. Dean swallowed and sighed happily.

"Likewise, mudz," he responded. "Cream is overrated."

Thus quietened, they quickly fell into a contented sleep, heads pillowed comfortably on each other's butt.

TBC

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A/N: This sequel had been lying around half written on my laptop for ages. Thought I might as well start posting it to encourage myself to get it done. The story is all finished. It will just needs a bit more editing. More soon...


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

* * *

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an Earth like Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

* * *

Hey Babe (Part 2) by frostygossamer

* * *

After lunch the next day, Castiel sat down at his laptop and began surfing the divine interweb. Dean sat at his feet for a few minutes watching every move of his typing fingers intently. Castiel was soon engrossed in his browsing and Dean grew bored. He went to look for Sam.

Sam had decided to sleep off his full stomach in the boys' new favourite hidey-hole, the linen closet. He had shouldered the door open a few inches and slipped inside. Making a comfortable bed with a pile of towels and a couple Castiel's favourite sweaters, he had curled up on them and was soon fast asleep.

Dean followed the noise of loud animal snoring until he found Sam in the Land of Nod. He shook his head and sighed. For a moment he considered joining the big muddie in the closet, but he wasn't really feeling sleepy. He had things to see to first, so he wandered outside.

As Dean stepped into the back yard, he heard the sound of Lisa warbling something on the other side of the fence. Idly curious, he went and stuck his head over the top, straining up on tippytoe.

"Whatcha singin'?" he asked.

Lisa, sitting cross-legged in the middle of her lawn, looked up and smiled. "Just croonin'," she said. "It's some old thing mud-mommas sing to their munchkins."

"Your momma sing it to you?" he asked.

"Uh-huh sometimes," Lisa affirmed. "But she weren't a real good momma. Used to hurt Lisa. Rejected mud-pup, that's what I was."

Dean felt deeply sorry for her. He could only barely remember his momma, but he remembered she had been good to him before his master picked him out at the mud-monkey farm. Castiel had assured her that he would take good care of her offspring, just as if she could have understood him. And he vividly recalled how an excited Castiel had gripped him tight all the way home.

"Where's your buddy?" Lisa asked, waking Dean from his daydream.

"Sleepin'," Dean answered.

"Oh," she responded. "Wanna come over?"

Dean considered. Lisa was being exceptionally sociable. He glanced back at the house. Sam was asleep, and he was no fun asleep. So why not?

Dean clambered over the fence.

~xXx~

A few minutes later...

"Now, if you don't need me fur anythin'..." Dean said, mindful of the possibility that his master might find him AWOL. "Cos I oughta go."

"Ooh, that's OK, Dean," Lisa giggled. "But please DO come over and SHARE again, any time." And she wriggled her sweet little butt politely.

Dean scrambled back over the fence into his own back yard. For some reason NOW he WAS feeling sleepy. He slipped through the mud-flap into the house, checked out his still empty food bowl and, glancing at the oblivious Castiel, made his way to the linen closet, where Sam was still dead to the heavens.

Slipping inside, Dean lay down beside his best friend, head resting on Sam's long naked legs, bare ass up against the big muddie's face. Sam sighed appreciatively and threw a sleepy arm over Dean, pulling him closer.

Dean drifted off to dreamland feeling both satisfied and loved.

~xXx~

Everything chez Castiel then continued like peaches and cream until one fateful day, the day of the accident.

It was a lovely sunny day and they were walking along the High Street, Castiel and his two muddies, well-behaved on their leashes, when all of a sudden what should round the corner but a beautiful shiny black vehicle. As it slowly rolled past them, Dean's eyeballs nearly fell out of his head.

"Dude," he gasped in awe. "'S beautiful!"

"'S a car," Sam stated, uninterestedly. "So what?"

Dean shot him a pitying look. "'S not just a CAR," he said. "'S a classic! 'S AWESOME!"

Now Dean knew his automobiles. He had long had a history of chasing cars as a mud-puppy. Castiel had hoped he had grown out of it. Apparently not. Dean took to his heels and sprinted down the road, dragging his master after him. Sam did his best to dig in his toes, but he wound up getting dragged along behind.

Pulled two ways by his pets, Castiel experienced a moment of panic. Dean's leash slipped from his hand, and the excited muddie barrelled along the sidewalk, pursuing the vehicle of his dreams.

"DEAN! Come back here!" Castiel yelled, but Dean was deaf even to his master's voice.

He ran into the road, blind to the traffic, and, horror of horrors, was struck by a small two-seater coming the other way.

Dean's body described a parabola in the air before coming back down, landing with a loud flump on the road behind the runabout. The owner of the car, a horrified girl angel, braked immediately and jumped out, shock written all over her face.

Before a dazed Castiel knew what was happening, Sam pulled away from him and dashed straight to his friend's side. Dean lay prone on the ground without any sign of life. A frightened Sam sank to his knees and sent up a howl that would have wakened the dead.

"Oh Father! Dean! NO!" Castiel yelled, as he ran over to the body.

The worried angel stooped down to check for a pulse. The driver of the roadster started to sob. Sam pulled Dean's limp form into his lap and pathetically attempted to shake him awake. Castiel had to force the distraught muddie to let go so that, between them, the two angels could load Dean's floppy carcass into the back of the two-seater.

They sped off to the vet's office as fast as was angelically possible, Sam whimpering on Castiel's knees.

~xXx~

At the veterinarian's office, Dean was rushed straight into the operating room. Castiel tried to leave Sam outside in the waiting area, while the veterinarian looked at Dean, but Sam was too upset to be still. Eventually the angel succumbed and took the mud-monkey into the OR with him.

Dean was laying prone on the marble examination table looking pale and bloody. Sam crouched on the floor and insisted on holding on to Dean's ankle, just so he knew his friend was still warm, not yet... cold.

"They're very devoted," Castiel explained to the vet, apologetically.

She nodded. "They CAN get very attached," she concurred, without looking up from her work.

The vet gave the comatose Dean a very thorough examination.

"I'm going to need to keep him here over night, under observation," she told Castiel.

"Oh? Well, yes, I suppose," he answered uncertainly.

"We'll know in the morning if he's going to be OK... or not," she went on. "His injuries aren't dreadfully serious. But I have to warn you he might well be in shock. Shock can very often KILL a dumb creature."

Castiel nodded. He had heard that before and the possibility didn't make him feel too good. He prised Sam off of Dean's leg and took the very upset and reluctant muddie home.

"Come on, Sam," he said. "There's nothing we can do here."

Sam gazed at his master with dismayed and uncomprehending eyes, as they shuffled out of the door together.

~xXx~

Back at Castiel's house, Sam sat on the kitchen floor looking dejected, while the angel prepared him some warm milk and honey.

"Here, Sam," he said. "For the shock. We can't have you getting sick too." He blinked away an involuntary tear.

Sam drank the milk willingly enough, but it didn't help to cheer him up one little bit.

The unhappy twosome ate some supper and then went straight to bed, both too numb to even watch TV. Castiel took the muddies' basket back into his bedroom so that he and Sam could keep each other company through the night.

Unable to fall asleep, Castiel lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, worrying about his injured pet. He had completely forgotten the errand they had been on when the accident occurred. All he could think about was poor Dean, and how much he blamed himself for what had happened. Meanwhile Sam lay whimpering to himself in his basket.

After a few minutes Castiel got up and brought Sam Dean's old knitted juju doll, a toy he vividly remembered buying for Dean as a new pet mud-pup.

"Look after Dolly for Dean, huh Sam?" he whispered, tucking it under the mud-monkey's arm.

The big muddie was calmed a little by Dean's familiar scent and fell into a restless sleep, twitching at horrible images of big nasty cars and a hurt friend.

~xXx~

Sometime late in the night, Sam woke from a distressing dream to find himself all alone and cold in a basket that he had gotten used to sharing with another warm body. He sat up and glance around the sadly silent moonlit room. He looked up at the angel's bed and considered climbing on it in search of warmth, but Castiel wasn't his old master and he wasn't sure if he would get mad.

Something inside Sam needed to express its painful loneliness. But he couldn't howl, couldn't bawl, couldn't wail the way his heart wanted, because he knew his master was sleeping and would maybe be angry to get woken up so late.

He dragged himself out of the basket and wandered downstairs, to stare blankly out of the living room window at the street. The street outside looked cold and empty, miserable, the way his heart felt.

So he was going to be Castiel's only pet and live with him all alone. The few precious months when he had shared his life with his muddie friend would become nothing more than a distant and beautiful memory. He would never love anyone so much again, never. He would die a very lonely and unhappy mud-monkey.

Sam flopped down dejectedly on the floor by the couch and sighed deeply, trailing his fingers over the scratchy fabric of the armrest. He wanted to hurt something, hurt it bad. He wanted to punish something for what had happened to his Dean. He felt his fingernails snag in the fabric and he pulled. A hole appeared and a little of the thing's stuffing popped out.

"Good," he thought vindictively. "'M hurtin' it," and he ripped it a little more.

Suddenly Sam realized what he was doing. He stopped and pulled his hand way. Master would be so mad! But it felt so good, so good to let his feelings out and damage something. And, well, it was already torn up, so what the heck?

He went to town on it.

When Castiel got up the next morning he found Sam waiting in the kitchen, ready for his breakfast, and his favourite old couch in tatters.

"Sam!" he admonished the naughty mudder. "WHAT have you done?"

Sam looked up at him through his bangs, his sad eyes so full of sorrow that the angel simply couldn't be sore with him. He patted the poor muddie on the head fondly.

"I know," he said gently. "We're BOTH a little scared and angry right now."

~xXx~

A little later that morning, as Castiel was downing his second cup of coffee of the day, the vet's office called and told him that his creature was awake and alert. The vet had given him pain meds, had x-rayed him and had bound his bruised ribs. She explained the angel should leave him with them for observation one more day, then he could collect him to nurse at home.

Castiel was so relieved. The angel had raised Dean from a mud-pup and his heart would have broken in two if he had lost him that way.

After hanging up the phone, Castiel tried to explain to Sam that Dean was going to be OK. He knew that Sam understood some Enochian and he tried to mix in a little Muddish he had worked out for himself.

"Sam. Dean is GOOD," he said slowly. "Gonna be OK. Gonna git better."

At first, Sam simply gazed at him with his head on one side looking thoroughly confused, but finally he seemed to cotton on.

"Dean git better? Yeah, yeah!" he panted, enthusiastically.

The good news seemed to make the big muddie a little less sad, but he continued to mope around the house, obviously missing his companion terribly.

Castiel felt the need to call his boyfriend, Gabriel, and talk about his upsetting ordeal. He had been too dazed the previous night to even think of doing that. Gabriel was very sympathetic.

"OK. So maybe I could take Sam tomorrow, huh honey?" he suggested. "That way you can go in and get some of your ridiculously huge workload out of the way. Then you can take a few personal days. I know you'll wanna play nursemaid to your little Deano."

Castiel liked that idea. "Oh yes, Gabe, that would be great. Thanks a lot."

"Hey, don't mention it," Gabriel replied cheerfully. "Sam's my guy, after all. And you got enough on your plate, Cas sweetie."

~xXx~

Gabriel picked up Sam an hour later. Sam ran to him and licked his hand as soon as he came in the door, but his old master could see that he was unusually subdued. The archangel was sorry to see his old mud-buddy rendered so utterly bounceless.

"Poor guy," he commiserated with him. "You missing your main squeeze, huh?"

Sam whimpered sadly as Gabriel patted him on the head. Struggling into his coat, Castiel gave Gabriel a peck on the lips as he hurried to get to work.

"The big softie's been like this all night," he said, "fretting over Dean."

"Like you haven't been?" Gabriel chuckled.

Castiel smiled. "It's so cute. They're just like a REAL couple."

Gabriel shook his head, smirking. He found it hilarious that Castiel angelomorphized his muddies. As if mud-monkeys were ANYTHING like angels.

To Gabriel, those absurd creatures were simply an infinite source of fun.

~xXx~

After making a date with Castiel to come over again that night, Gabriel encouraged Sam into his car.

"We're gonna have us a little adventure, Sam my boy," he said. "Gonna take you see the big G.O.D. How about that, huh?"

Sam looked unimpressed. Whatever the heck his master was talking about didn't interest him. All he could think about right then was Dean, his perfect Dean, broken and hurt and so totally unfit for fun.

After a short drive to Gabriel's centre of operations, the archangel unloaded Sam in the parking lot and snapped the muddie's leash onto his collar.

"Today I got an audience with the BIG CHEESE, Sammy," the archangel told him. "Got a real important report to present UPSTAIRS. And THEN we'll see what the Father's new project is gonna be."

He tugged on Sam's leash and they began to walk toward the towering building.

"Got a sneaking suspicion it's gonna involve little old me and little old Earth. Plus yet another clever little scheme from your master's clever little brain," Gabriel revealed. "Impressed? Well you should be. This archangel is gonna be one darn important cog in the divine machine. Mark my words."

Sam stared back blankly as they entered the impressive foyer of Divinity Tower.

~xXx~

As they came through the front entrance to the Tower, the pretty girl angel receptionist squealed with delight and hurried out from behind her desk.

"Ooh, Mr Gabriel, you've got your Sam with you?" she squeaked. "Isn't he lo-ovely!"

Sam sat there and let the female angel stroke his hair and fuss with him. He grinned and panted and leaned into her like the friendly muddie he was. Girl angels adored him. What could he do?

Gabriel chuckled. "I've got him for the day, Rachel," he said. "Can I leave him here while I see the BIG GUY?"

"Oh, I wish," she replied sadly. "But we can't have a creature in the foyer. Sorry. You'll have to leave him in the anteroom. He'll be fine, I'm sure."

Rachel pressed the elevator call button and its doors opened with a ping.

"Just go straight up, Mr Gabriel. I've buzzed him. He's waiting for you."

Gabriel stepped into the elevator and Sam padded in beside him. As the elevator doors closed the big muddie felt a rush of anxiety. He really didn't like those weird little moving boxes whose doors opened out onto random places. He never knew what he would find when the doors opened.

~xXx~

Today they went all the way to the top. Sam had just gotten used to the sensation of flying when they juddered to a stomach churning stop. The doors opened onto a sumptuously decorated corridor where a plaque on the wall announced. "CEO Heavenly Industries Inc." in big golden letters.

Gabriel stepped out of the little box and led Sam along the corridor toward a set of heavy double doors. He held one open and waited until Sam had joined him inside before letting go of the handle.

"Now, Sam," he said. "I'm gonna trust you to sit right here like a good muddie and keep VERY quiet while I have my moment with the PARMESANISSIMO."

Sam looked up at him adoringly, as usual, but without any hint that he understood a word. Gabriel thought back to when Castiel had told him that he believed mud-monkeys could understand a little Enochian, and even speak a primitive version. He hadn't really believed that, but he thought he might as well give it a try.

"SAM," he began, slowly and carefully. "You SIT here and be QUIET, like a GOOD BOY. WAIT for MASTER. OK?"

Light dawned faintly in the big muddie's eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied in Muddish. "Sam sit," plopping down on his bare rump. "Sam be good."

Gabriel was impressed with himself.

"Hey, I could be a mud-whisperer," he remarked.

Pulling himself to his full height, he smoothed his hair, straightened his tie and composed his face.

"Fingers crossed, Sam," he said and knocked on the CEO's office door.

From inside Sam heard a muffled "Come!" and his master disappeared.

TBC

* * *

A/N: All this angel stuff is, of course, way over Sam's head. He'd rather be home with his Dean. More soon...


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

* * *

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

* * *

Hey Babe (Part 3) by frostygossamer

* * *

About an hour later, Gabriel returned from his Father's presence. His eyes were big with the enormity of the plans he had just been informed about. He felt almost overwhelmed by the weight of the responsibility that had just been thrust on him by the HEAD HONCHO himself.

Sam jumped up from where he had been laying full length on the floor and fixed him with questioning eyes.

"Oh, Sam," Gabriel gasped, leaning back on the closed door. "That was one HOT meeting."

Sam looked slightly worried, just in case. Was that a good or bad thing? He couldn't guess. All he had managed to hear of the audience from out there in the anteroom had been muffled words of business Enochian, impenetrable to a mere muddie. Barely a handful of words had meant anything to him: 'urth', 'save', 'uman', 'hunt', 'go' and 'love'. 'Love' was currently Sam's favourite word.

The archangel picked up his pet's leash and wandered back to the elevator dazed. Sam trotted at his heals. Gabriel pressed the button for the first floor with a shaky finger. As he crossed the foyer to the entrance doors, he hardly heard Rachel's goodbye. Although Sam did take the time to give her a friendly smile and rub himself on the corner of her desk as he passed.

Gabriel bundled Sam into the back seat of his car then got in himself. The archangel sat dumbly behind the steering wheel for several minutes before pulling himself together and remembering his muddie.

"Sam," he said, voice full of subdued excitement. "THE MAN has gotten himself one Heaven of a PLAN! Boy, does he have a plan! And THIS archangel is gonna be a kingpin in the divine strategy. You proud of your old man, huh?"

Sam looked up at him from where he was crouching and yawned like a walrus. A plan? Well, Sam could do plans. DEAN could tell Old Master that. Oh, there he went again. Poor Dean! Dean, where was he? He was starting to feel sad again. Sam flopped down on the backseat and sighed enormously.

Gabriel wasn't discouraged by his pet's apparently unimpressed reaction to his news.

"Really?" he asked, snarkily. "Dunno why the BIG KAHUNA has so much faith in your kind, Sammy boy. Personally, I doubt that bunch have the focus to be part of his GREAT VISION."

Gabriel drove around a little to calm himself down. Then he took Sam to a greasy spoon cafe for a naughty celebration lunch, getting Sam inside by putting on shades and pretending Sam was his Seeing Eye muddie. Sam gratefully wolfed down his greasy burger and fries under the booth table. A full belly cheered him up only very slightly.

After a token pop-in to the archangel's home office, Gabriel took Sam back to Castiel, anxious to share his great news with his beloved.

~xXx~

That evening, when Gabriel took Sam back to Castiel's, the two angels spent the night together. Gabriel had to tone down his excitement because, even when Castiel was wrapped in the archangel's arms, he could sense that the angel was still feeling shaken by recent events concerning his darling mud-monkey.

"I do hope Dean's going to be alright, Gabe," Castiel sighed.

Gabriel hugged him a little tighter.

"He'll be fine," the archangel assured him. "He's one tough mudder. Take more than this to polish off young Deano."

"You think?" Castiel asked, snuggling closer. "I'm frightened he could languish and die. Simple creatures can do that, you know. Their nerves are very fragile."

Gabriel had to laugh. From his experience of mud-monkey ownership with Sam, muddies were ANYTHING but fragile creatures.

"Don't you worry, Cas," he insisted. "Soon as you get him home he'll be OK. All he needs is some TLC. Just like me," and he kissed Castiel on the nose.

Castiel kissed him back on the lips. Gabriel deepened the kiss, rolling him onto his back, then grinned down at him.

"TLC. That what this is?" Castiel asked, smiling a little.

"If you like, Honey," Gabriel agreed, with a naughty twinkle.

~xXx~

Downstairs in his basket, Sam was pining sadly for his Dean. He knew his master had said Dean was alive, that he would get better, but he was dubious.

Sam's head was full of worrying questions. Would Dean be going to return to him in one piece? Would he be the same muddie he used to be? Would he still be beautiful? Would he still have all his pretty toys? Would he still be up for flexy fun with his Sammy?

Sam felt bad that he was worrying about little Sam's needs. He suffered for Dean; he really did. But he had found something special with Castiel's perfect muddie and he couldn't bear the thought that it could be over, that his Dean might have been irreversibly traumatized by his horrid experiences.

Maybe the smaller muddie would come back home wrecked, and not wanting Sam anymore. It was all TOO cruel to contemplate. Once again, Sam cried himself to sleep, all alone. This was becoming a habit. He wasn't sleeping properly without his companion.

When his master got out of bed next morning and skipped downstairs, Sam just lay flat on his stomach and watched the incongruously happy angel over the rim of the basket. He could hear Castiel beginning breakfast, so he dragged himself out of his lonely bed, feeling lower than one of those nasty-tasting slug things from the back yard.

In the kitchen, Castiel was humming to himself as he rustled up a fortifying repast for his stay-over boyfriend and him. Gabriel had joined him and was chatting to him animatedly about his new mission from the Divine Enchilada. It was just so much yackety-yak to Sam.

Uncharacteristically ignoring his bowl, Sam slouched out to the back yard, feeling almost too sad to even enjoy a good poop. Outside, birds were singing and flowers were blooming in a way that seemed thoughtlessly bothersome to Sam, considering how badly he felt without Dean.

Heaven should have been much less carefree about the horrible state of things it had caused, he thought.

~xXx~

Lounging on the lawn wearing a hangdog face and feeling unbearably tragic inside, he became conscious of the sound of muddie trilling drifting over the fence. Wearily, he wandered across and peeked over the top. Lisa was skipping around her own back yard, keeping herself company by singing.

"Hi," Sam said dolefully.

"Oh, hi," Lisa replied, grinning. "How you doin'?"

"Not so good," he answered, sadly. "Missin' my Dean."

"You missin' Dean?" she wondered. "Why? He run away?"

Sam choked back a sob mudfully. "He got hisself RUN OVER," he answered.

"Run over?! Oh, that's BAD," she responded, eyes wide. "He... dead?"

Lisa chin-upped against the fence so she could see over, scanning Castiel's back yard for that tell-tale heap of dirt that indicated the last resting place of a faithful pet. Sam followed her gaze, gasping as he realized what she was looking for.

"Nah," Sam insisted. "Not DEAD. Vet's got him. He's gonna come home sometime."

"Aw, that sucks," Lisa sympathized. "Meantime, how 'bout you come over and 'visit' with me."

Sam appreciated it was very thoughtful of Lisa, to offer herself to cheer him up at a trying time like this. He considered it. He considered long and hard but, shockingly, he couldn't even bring himself to give someone a mannerly tumble, he felt so low.

"Gonna hafta make that a rain check," he said. "Not up to muffin' right now. The wand's feelin' kinda floppy and sad. Sorry."

Lisa smiled kindly. "Oh, poor you," she said. "That's OK. No offence taken."

His sorrow had made Sam transgress social etiquette. He had been brought up better than that. But, right then, he felt like he would rather commit social suicide than share himself with anyone other than his Dean, even if that meant never boffing anyone ever again.

"Bye, Lisa," he said and sloped back indoors to force down a little sustenance.

~xXx~

Castiel was full of joy because he was going to go collect his Dean from the vet first thing. He could hardly wait to see his darling pet again. He dressed quickly and hurried out to go get Dean in Gabriel's car, dropping the archangel off at his office along the way.

When the vet arrived to run up her window shutters, she found Castiel already waiting anxiously outside, hopping agitatedly from foot to foot. She guided the worried pet owner into her kennelling facility.

"I know Dean is gonna be as glad to see you as you are him," she chuckled.

And he sure was.

Dean was overjoyed to be 'rescued' from this weird place, where they'd hurt him, half starved him and locked him up after what, he had started to remember, was a nightmarishly surreal experience. The still slightly woozy muddie staggered to his feet in the cramped incubator where he had been sleeping, and feebly pawed at the glass window. The vet unlatched the cubicle door and Castiel shot in to grab his pet and envelope him in a loving hug.

"Thank Father," the angel gasped. "I really thought you were a goner this time, Dean. Never do ANYTHING to scare me like that again."

Dean's joy was a little pathetic; he sobbed in his master's arms. But then he spotted the vet, watching over Castiel's shoulder, and pulled himself up, visibly controlling his shaky emotions. Dean was a fearless guard-mud. He couldn't be seen behaving like some infant mud-pup, even by angels. His dignity meant a whole lot to him.

Castiel could only smile, just so glad his muddie was alive and on the mend. He promised Dean a treat for being such a real GOOD boy. So, on the way home, they stopped to pick up some yummy ice cream for the invalid and, more importantly, called in at the celestial bakery for Dean's favourite, PIE.

~xXx~

Sam was loitering nervously in the middle of the hall when Castiel unlocked the front door, his dark eyes wet and pleading, trying not to hope too much. The angel spotted him and grinned broadly.

"Look who I found at the vet's," he told the worried muddie. "See who's here," and he turned to indicate Dean, who was wobbling right behind him.

The slightly shaky muddie followed his master inside. Sam's face lit up the moment they met his friend's dopey green eyes. He looked Dean's body over carefully.

"Dude, what's wrong with your freakin' head?" he demanded suspiciously.

Dean winced. "Dunno, mudz," he replied. "Some kinda funnel. 'S freakin' uncomfortable."

Dean was wearing an Elizabethan cone, which the vet had insisted Castiel leave on for a day or two to prevent the muddie biting at his dressings. Castiel led Dean indoors, and left the two muddies alone in the living room, while he went in the kitchen to serve up the ice cream and pie.

"Now don't you jostle poor Dean around, Sam," the angel warned as he went. "Remember he's not all better yet, right? Play gently."

Sam tilted his head and gave his friend a sympathetically meant grin.

"'S embarrassin', mudz," Dean told him. "Had to walk 'cross the street with this freakin' thin' on. Feel stoopid."

Sam tried to stifle a slightly hysterical laugh, and failed.

"'S freakin' hilarious," he chuckled. "Looks like you got your head stuck in a lampshade, dude. What's it fur?"

"Dunno, Sam," Dean replied, but he had his suspicions.

They plonked their bare butts down on the hearthrug. After a few moments, Dean voiced the concern he had had since he had woken up groggy at the vet's.

"Dude, you wanna check me out downstairs?" he asked nervously.

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You up for that yet? You not too sick?"

"Not freakin' THAT," Dean scoffed. "Need you to tell me, be honest, do I still got all my toys?"

Dean could only think of one reason the vet wouldn't want him examining his injuries. It had to do with the fate most feared by pets when taken to the vet's.

Sam checked out his friend's conspicuous nether regions very carefully.

"All present and correct, mudz," he assured him. "Damn pretty as ever."

Dean let out a relieved sigh.

"Dude, I was so scared the funnel was to stop me seein' they'd stolen my junk," he admitted. "So 'fraid."

Sam chuckled. "No need, mudz. You're completely unmeddled with downstairs. Sweet like always."

Right then Castiel called the two muddies to eat. Dean wobbled as fast as he could in the kitchen, Sam padding along behind, gently shepherding him. The angel placed two bowls of pie on the floor, crusts smashed and ice cream mushed, to make it easier for muddies to manage without making too great of a mess.

Both pets got right into the sticky goodness.

~xXx~

After licking their bowls out super-thoroughly, they returned to the living room. Castiel sat on one end of the couch to eat his pie a la mode, while Dean stretched out with his coned head laying awkwardly in his master's lap. Sam sat his butt on the floor and made puppy-eyes at the angel, until Castiel patted the couch and allowed him to jump up beside the invalid.

"Now be nice, Sam," he warned him, wagging his finger. "Dean's still a little delicate."

Sam allowed himself to melt over the couch, sprawling over Dean's long bare legs and resting his cheek on his friend's soft pink belly with a sigh. He drank in Dean's scent, delicious as always, if a little medicated.

"Yum-yum-yum!" he mumbled against Dean's stomach. "Was GOOD pie!"

Dean huffed. "Was MY pie," he commented. "Fur bein' a brave muddie."

"You WERE brave, mudz," Sam agreed. "But Sam was brave too. Had to be in charge of stuff, protectin' and such, all on my own. Though I'm freakin' good at that. Plus-"

"Plus eatin' my freakin' share of the food when I wasn't here?" Dean suggested dryly.

Trust Dean to have been worrying about what was going on with his share of the food while he was someplace else.

"PLUS," Sam repeated, "bein' all SAD cos I figured you were DEAD, mudz." He paused for effect. "Even CRIED."

Dean had to carefully turn around and glare at him through his cone, after that confession.

"You CRIED?" he asked, scandalized. "Seriously? Like some tiny mud-pup?"

Sam rubbed his face on his friend's belly.

"Yeah, I cried. And I'm not ashamed. Cried fur bein' alone, Dean. MISSED you dreadful!"

Dean suddenly felt all choked up inside. Sam had been hurting while he was gone? And all HE had worried about was himself. What sort of an Alpha was he? But, being Dean, he thought it best to maintain his cool attitude.

"'Course you missed me," he snorted. "Missed your Alpha. That's damn right-thinkin'."

Sam sighed shakily. "No, Dean. Missed my MATE," he quavered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Not your MATE, dude," he pointed out. "NOT a mud-chick."

"Good as my mate," Sam asserted, tearfully. "Closest I'll ever git. And better."

Dean snorted. "You're my frick-muddie. 'S what you freakin' are, mudz."

Sam sighed deeply. "A frick-muddie's just some mudder you pole sometime you see 'em in the street or in the bushes at the park, for the fun 'gasms," he murmured. "That what I am?"

Dean considered a bit more. Did he even know a word for what Sam wanted to hear?

"Guess you're my bowl-mate," he remarked uncertainly. "That's way freakin' important."

For Dean, that was actually true. Dean thought a lot of his food. Sharing his foodbowl with ANYONE was a big deal for him. But Sam's shoulders heaved in another big sigh. Dean was still a little perplexed. He needed to say something to cheer Sam up. It was HIS responsibility as Alpha to keep his tribe happy, after all.

"Love ya, mudz," he yelped desperately, then pressed his lips tight together before anything else unmudly could escape. That wasn't Alpha talk, no way.  
But Sam knew that Dean had problems with that one Enochian concept. He gave his friend credit for not choking on the very word. He glanced at Dean over his shoulder.

"Ya do?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," Dean assured him, running a finger slowly up and down the big muddie's spine. "Sure do."

"Love ya too, Dean," Sam responded, a big sappy smile lighting up his face.

Dean was touched. He stroked Sam's messy hair. Maybe it wasn't so bad to let Sam call him his mate. After all, Dean was the Alpha, right? That had to make Sam the bitch in the relationship. Sam made one freakin' BIG mud-chick, but Dean could work with that.

"'S OK, Sam. 'M home now. Take care a you, huh?" he whispered.

"Mmm," Sam agreed wordlessly, snuggling into him. "Yeah, home now," and he fell into a contented doze.

Sam wrapped his long arms around his precious friend and held him gently, licking comforting slurps across his bruised skin. Dean purred softly at Sam's soothing.

Castiel could feel the vibration in his lap. He set his empty plate down on the floor and smiled at how sweet his two muddies were together. His plans to have Sam sleep separate from Dean that night, in case he accidentally hurt him, looked to be unnecessary after all.

The big muddie couldn't have been more tender.

TBC

* * *

A/N: So Sam has his Dean back home. No more worries. Or are there? More soon...


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

* * *

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

* * *

Hey Babe (Part 4) by frostygossamer

* * *

Later that night Sam led Dean to their basket and lay down, allowing the sickly, slightly smaller muddie to lounge comfortably on top of him, warmed by his body heat. Dean slept for a while, and Sam was beginning to slip off into dreamland himself when Dean shifted and sighed.

"You OK?" Sam asked solicitously.

"Was just thinkin' 'bout how nasty it was wakin' up at the vet's," his friend answered, with an involuntary shudder.

"What was it like, mudz?" Sam asked. "Scary?"

"Kinda," Dean admitted, before remembering his tough-guy facade. "Only WASN'T freakin' scared, obviously," he added.

"Tell me," Sam suggested, stretching sleepily.

"Well, at first I was dreamin'," Dean began.

"Dreamin' 'bout what, mudz?" Sam wondered.

"'Bout nuthin', just dreamin'," Dean went on. "Like I was home layin' in this basket, only it was freakin' uncomfortable and kinda... wrong."

Dean shivered at the horrible memory.

"Whaddya mean 'wrong'?" Sam probed, gently rubbing at the tight knot already forming between Dean's shoulders.

"Dunno, dude," Dean answered. "Just freakin' wrong. Noises sounded all strange, not like home. Opened my eyes and BAM! everythin' came back," he screwed up his face at the memory. "Freakin' pretty car, gittin' tossed up in the sky, flyin' like some damn weird-ass bird, ground comin' fast up at me, hurtin'. Then everythin' black and freakin' WHAMMO! There I was."

"Where?" Sam asked stupidly.

"That was the thin'. Didn't freakin' know where. Place was queer, new. Weird-ass sounds, Weird-ass smells. Some kinda jail cell. Glass walls, hard bed, no food, just a little bowl of freakin' tap water."

"Oo-oo!" Sam observed. He really didn't like the sound of that.

"Reckoned I was DEAD. Dead and gone to someplace MEAN," Dean moaned. "Fur bein' a BAD muddie and not mindin' what Master said."

"But you're NOT a bad muddie," Sam objected. "Well, not mostly. You're a GOOD boy, aintcha?"

"Nah," Dean admitted. "KNEW chasin' cars was bad. Been told off before. Got excited, broke the damn rules."

Sam nodded. "Yup," he agreed. "That was WAY freakin' bad."

"Only," Dean went on. "Only there was sumthin' familiar 'bout the place. Sumthin' made my skin freakin' crawl."

"Ugh," Sam huffed sympathetically.

"And then it hit me..." Dean explained. Sam held his breath. "Vet's!" Dean yelped. "Argh! No, no! Was at the vet's place. Tried to git up and run, but sumthin' had me all trussed up with binds, legs all wonky, couldn't stand. And that stoopid-ass freakin' highway cone 'round my neck. Couldn't see right. Freakin' TRAPPED!"

Sam stroked Dean's belly soothingly. "Weren't trapped, mudz," he assured him. "Just sick."

"Oh yeah, duh?" Dean commented. "Wasn't sick sick, just hurtin', all alone and tied up. No Master, no Sam, freakin' no one."

Dean was trying to rub in the horror of his experience, to point up exactly how damn brave he had been. But Sam only empathized with his suffering.

"Mudz, you WERE scared," he concluded, full of concern.

"Hell no!" Dean retorted, vehemently. "Was NEVER freakin' scared. Why'd I be scared? So NOT a freakin' mud-pup, dude."

Although that wasn't strictly true. Dean had been scared to wake up alone and sick at the vet's. He had been a sheltered house muddie his entire life. He had NEVER woken up in a strange place before, NEVER woken up without his master near by, without the familiar smells of home. It had taken every ounce of his courage not to freak out and whine like an abandoned newborn.

He described his situation to an awed Sam. "Was in this little hutch place, layin' on some ratty-ass blanket, nuthin' in there 'cept that bowl of tepid water and some kinda dish with a little sand, poor-ass excuse for a litter box. Only drank the water cos my throat felt nasty, like I'd bin snackin' on the freakin' litter sand."

Sam inhaled. "Sounds damn cruel," he opined in disgust.

"WAS cruel," Dean agreed with feeling, and continued. "After one freakin' LONG time some angel in a white coat came and opened the hutch door, reached in and checked me over. Didn't know what to do so I kept real freakin' still. But then the angel petted me and I felt a little better. She gave me a bowl of dry food and filled up my water. Food was OK, not as good as Master's but OK, and I was freakin' HUNGRY. And then I pooped in the little dish."

"As you do," Sam observed. "Nice angel?"

"So-so," Dean allowed. "Was just driftin' off to sleep, hopin' when I woke up next time I WOULD be freakin' back in my OWN basket, when the vet angel came and took me to the BIG TABLE. Kinda hoped Master would be there, like usual, but he wasn't. Vet checked me over damn good, but I managed to keep my goodies away from her glinty eyes."

"Lucky," Sam commented. "Dude, that angel's got a hankerin' for your marbles."

"Don't I know it," Dean agreed, shivering. "AND, cos they'd put this big-ass funnel thing on me, couldn't see what else she did. After that they left me in the cell to sleep. Slept pretty damn deep. Was all kinda fuzzy. Probably they poisoned me, I guess. All I remember is they poked at me once and agin, and brought me food and water till Master came. Mudz, was I freakin' GLAD to see him! Was ALL over him. SO freakin' happy when he brought me home."

"Was I super-glad to see YOU, mudz," Sam chuckled happily. "Figured I was gonna be bunkless from now on. Missed that smexy feakin' butt, mudz. Missed it one whole damn bunch."

Dean was pleased by his friend's kind words.

"Missed you too, dude," he said sincerely. "Missed freakin' ALL of you."

~xXx~

It was almost a week later when Castiel opened his front door to find an irate neighbour on his doorstep. Zachariah could barely contain his anger.

"Your creature, Mister Castiel," he fumed. "Your OUT OF CONTROL creature has VIOLATED my darling Lisa."

"Violated?" Castiel quavered. "MY creature?"

"Yes!" Zachariah asserted forcefully. "YOUR creature. That damned mud-monkey. The one you call 'Dean'."

"Dean?" Castiel repeated, somewhat shocked. "MY Dean? Oh, I'm sure... No, he wouldn't..."

Castiel knew that mud-monkeys weren't exactly self-restrained sexually, but somehow he couldn't see his Dean 'violating' anything. Not that the muddie wasn't capable of it. Castiel had, after all, himself witnessed displays of sexual gymnastics between him and Sam, but he really didn't take Dean for some sort of sex-criminal.

"He would and he DID," Zachariah insisted. "He was SEEN climbing over the fence into my back yard. On a NUMBER of occasions. Clearly with the aim of having his brutish way with my innocent little darling."

Castiel wavered. Of course his Dean was just a mud-monkey, after all, subject to his instinctual carnal desires. Maybe he had, well, followed his nature.

"That beast should have been neutered, MISTER Castiel," Zachariah continued, making the word 'mister' sound especially rude. "My Lisa is RUINED."

Castiel recovered himself a little.

"'Ruined' is a harsh word, Mister Zachariah," he said. "A couple months and she'll be good as new."

Zachariah scoffed. "Lisa is a SHOW-muddie, Mister Castiel. I can't SHOW her when she's in mud-pup, now can I? This season is a total write-off."

Castiel considered that attitude a trifle mercenary on his neighbour's part.

"So that you know, I do intend to SUE," Zachariah went on. "And I'm going to make sure you're forced to NEUTER that dangerous creature before he deflowers another defenceless innocent like my darling Lisa."

So saying, the pompous angel stormed out of Castiel's front yard.

Stunned, Castiel wandered into his living room and dropped down on his couch. Dean and Sam, who had been snuffling around hopefully in the kitchen, trotted in to see what their master was doing. Castiel put his hand inside Dean's cone and scratched the muddie's head absently.

"Oh, Dean, you naughty boy," he murmured. "What have you done now, you silly muddie."

Dean looked at him quizzically. Castiel sighed.

"Why did you have to get frisky with that stuffed shirt Zachariah's precious mud-female?" he wondered aloud. "If I'd known you could get over that fence..."

Dean didn't get any of that, so he turned to Sam for a translation. Sam's eyes were huge with outrage.

"Dean!" he gasped. "You didn't... You bin climbin' the back fence and doodlin' Lisa behind my back?"

Dean quickly thought back a ways.

"Dude, first time you were out of it on the closet floor and I had to..." Dean began to explain.

"Cheater!" Sam snapped. "Behind my freakin' back!" he repeated as he turned away.

It wasn't Dean having sex that Sam objected to, obviously social sex was fine. It was being SNEAKY about it. Like it was something he had to hide. It made it feel like Dean knew his motives WERE so wrong he had to conceal them from Sam. Sam felt betrayed.

"Dude, you were sleepin'..." Dean maintained weakly, to Sam's retreating behind.

~xXx~

After filling his stomach to calm his nerves, something that takes a little longer than usual when you're wearing a funnel, Dean went looking for his companion. He needed to offer Sam some kind of account of his actions. He found him, as expected, squirreled away in their favourite closet. Dean pushed at the door and was surprised to meet with resistance.

"Lemme in, Sam," he whispered hoarsely, "Gotta talk."

"Humph," Sam replied from inside, a faint sob in his voice. "No point in talkin'. 'S done. Broke Sam's heart."

Dean sighed. He hated it when Sam was like this. Unlike Dean, the big goofy muddie kind of wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak. It hurt Dean to see him unhappy, especially when he seemed to be the cause of it.

"Not as bad as it sounds," Dean ventured. "Wasn't dissin' you, mudz. Wouldn't do that."

Sam heaved a big sigh behind the closed door. Dean could almost see him sadly blowing his bangs out of his eyes.

"Know Lisa's a hottie, mudz. Like Lisa too. But maybe YOU like Lisa more than you like Sam?" Sam asked with a quavering voice.

Dean slumped down on the floor with his bare back against the door.

"Lisa's real hot, yeah. But Sam's smokin' hot too. Like Sam a whole lot," he assured his friend.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, and Dean felt the closet door open a couple inches.

Sam peered out at Dean, only one sad puppy-eye visible through the gap.

"Still buddies, huh?" he whispered.

Dean gave him his best aren't-I-cute-and-don't-I-deserve-a-cookie smile.

"Damn true!" he answered. "Always buddies, dude. You the best."

Sam opened the door a little farther and allowed Dean to slip inside. Dean curled his toes nervously in the carpet and looked down at his friend. The bigger mud-monkey sat slumped against the wall, his hands laying limp on his lap and his head drooping dejectedly. Dean climbed onto his lap and threw his arms around the muddie's broad shoulders.

"Lisa's one classy mud-chick, mudz, but she's not my friend," he insisted. "You're my friend, Sam. Best friend AND Beta. Never choose anyone else over you."

He ground his groin against Sam's and nuzzled into his neck. Sam felt Little Sam starting to take an interest in his friend's proximity. He grasped Dean's firm butt-cheeks and let his thumbs slip between, playing with Dean's pretty hole.

"Don't be mad with me, mudz," Dean pleaded.

"Tiny bit mad," Sam admitted. "But I guess, Little Sam, he's not mad at all."

Dean was relieved. He knew Little Sam's opinion counted for a lot with Big Sam. He smiled into the big muddie's neck.

"Little Sam wanna come inside fur a visit?" he offered generously.

"Uh-huh," Sam answered.

They spent the next hour making up, during which time Sam made damn sure he had reclaimed visiting rights to all of Dean's equipment and orifices. And Dean, uncharacteristically this once, allowed himself to be just a little submissive for the sake of Sam's wounded self-esteem.

Sometimes an Alpha has to take one for the tribe.

~xXx~

A couple weeks later, when Castiel felt sure that his muddie was fully recovered from his ordeal, it was time to remove Dean's pesky cone. By this time Dean had been wearing it so long he had almost forgotten it wasn't part of him. He had soon learnt to eat with it on. Nothing was going to stop him eating, after all. And, after a day or two, he had stopped walking into things. Sam had even given up mocking him about it.

Dean was laying on the living room floor enjoying a patch of sunlight when Castiel approached and began to tickle his ear. Dean half rose on one elbow and checked out the angel's hand for food, just to be sure, before stretching lazily and rolling onto his back to allow his master access to his smooth pink tummy.

"Time this stupid thing was off, I think," Castiel said, beginning to undo the fastenings of the cone with his unoccupied hand.

Dean reached up and patted the angel's hand playfully. He loved it when his master stroked him. It made him feel all warm and cared for.

Castiel chuckled. "Hey, just let me do this. You want the silly thing off or not?"

He finished unfastening the cone and pulled it off of his pet, then he ruffled Dean's hair.

"Looks like you need a trip to the groomer, my boy," he chuckled. "Wanna go to the grooming parlour, huh?"

Dean grinned happily. Parlour? Hell yeah! Dean loved the grooming parlour. The chick angels that ran the place all adored him and they always always spoiled him with candy.

If Dean had had a tail he would have wagged it. He couldn't wait.

~xXx~

Mindful of Zachariah's comments about uncontrolled creatures, and to help prevent anymore dangerous car chasing incidents, Castiel had gone out and purchased harnesses for Dean and Sam. Dean took one look at the things his master had brought home and immediately struck an attitude that was all about "NO!"

The harnesses were shiny and black and were held together by numerous buckles and metal rings. Castiel had to consult the manual several times before he got both recalcitrant muddies strapped up and could get into his coat for their normal park run.

While he was gone, Sam surveyed Dean appraisingly.

The top part of his harness was an X-shaped thing. There was a metal ring in the centre of his broad chest and another between his shoulders to secure his leash. This section in turn attached to a firmly cinched waist-belt with side straps that buckled tightly around each muscular thigh.

Sam noted that his tackle were not ridiculously concealed this time. This wasn't a cruel contraption like the one Sam had been subjected to by the vet, thank heavens.

"Least it don't trap up your junk," he approved, "like the nasty thin' the vet put on me that time."

"Clothes," Dean sneered. As far as he was concerned anything he had to wear was 'clothes'.

Clothes were so not a muddie thing. Muddies were proud of their bodies and loved the feel of fresh air on their bare skin. He wriggled uncomfortably.

"Not clothes, no," Sam judged, thoughtfully. "More like body armour. Totally awesome, mudz."

Dean liked that idea better. "'S not too uncomfortable," he conceded. "Feels kinda snug."

Sam turned Dean around and examined how the harness framed his friend's butt.

"Makes your butt look real good," he praised. "Plump and perky."

"Dude, my butt is ALWAYS plump and perky," Dean pointed out.

"True," Sam agreed. "Woulda bin a shame to hide it. Master did a good thing."

"Master IS good," Dean intoned, religiously.

He ran an eye over his friend. He had to agree that the harness suited him, enhancing the look of his wide shoulders and toned musculature.

"You look fine," he said. "'S good."

Dean knew Castiel wouldn't have forced him into anything too cruel. His master wasn't a cruel angel, far from it. After all, his master had taken in Sam so he could have a nookie-life. The angel didn't need Sam for protecting or companionship. Dean was awesome at all that. No, Sam was here for Dean. Of course he was. If Dean was going to be an Alpha, he had to have a troop. Sam was his troop. So he made an executive Alpha-type decision.

"Harness is good," he declared. "We WILL walk in our harnesses."

Sam almost swooned before Dean's clear voice of authority. What a mudder this guy was. Wow!

~xXx~

They stepped outside in good spirits, but Sam was a little less enthusiastic when Dean informed him where they were headed.

"Groomer?!" he growled. "'S nasty place. They paw ya all up and stick that noisy-ass freakin' trimmer thin' in all the worst places. Plus they got their eyes on my mane."

"Your freakin' what?" Dean asked, puzzled by the new term.

"My MANE," Sam tossed his head to illustrate. "My lovely HAIR. See this glorious head of chestnut curls I got? They have their way, it's all gonna wind up on the freakin' parlour floor. 'S a crime."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, yeah, damn sure."

Dean preferred his hair nice and short. He hated it when it hung down over his eyes. Got in the way of his protecting and defending duties. But, on the other hand, he did kind of love to get his fingers all twisted up in Sam's mop. When they were enjoying some energetic fucky, it was nice to have something to hang on to.

"It'll grow agin," he assured Sam. "No big freakin' deal."

Sam sighed. To him it was one HUGE deal. As it happened he didn't need to have worried. The girl angels at the grooming parlour squealed with delight when Castiel introduced his new muddie to them.

"Ooh!" they chimed together. "He's a BIG one, isn't he? And what a beautiful coat he has."

After their harnesses were removed, the muddies' hair was combed out to get rid of any twigs and knotty bits. Then the two mud-monkeys were bathed with a gentle mud-shampoo which smelled kind of herbal but made their skin feel all tingly.

"Ugh! Feel all freakin' CLEAN," Sam grumbled.

"Ah, but you smell REAL tasty," Dean commented.

The girls then trimmed their hair and blow-dried it, something that Sam did NOT enjoy because his long locks kept flapping in his eyes.

"Freakin' blower," he grunted.

Dean chuckled. There were advantages to having short hair.

Then they had their finger and toenails clipped. That wasn't something Dean liked at all. He would rather have grown his nails into dangerous weapons, like the fierce mud-monkey he considered himself to be.

One of the angel grooming assistants then appeared with a bottle of oil which smelled sweetly of coconuts, perfect to moisturize their unprotected skins.

"What's this fur?" Sam asked Dean, suspicious of the unfamiliar perfume.

"Sexy pheromones," Dean explained. "They rub it on ya. All over. 'S good."

Sam had never experienced a full body massage before. He found being rubbed down all over his body by skilled angel hands very stimulating, and even a little arousing.

Dean noticed his friend's eyes roll back in his head with pleasure.

"Hey, dude! Don't let that weenie get too interested," he warned Sam.

"Oh yeah?" Sam responded dreamily. "'S goo-ood."

"Nah. 'S not good. Angels don't like it," Dean warned. "Try to thinka sumthin' droopifying."

"Real hard to do when you right here, mudz," Sam snickered.

Dean chuckled. "Try thinkin' 'bout froggin' sumthin' like a... a rubber boot."

Sam squirmed around happily. "Right now I'ma thinkin' I could frog a rubber boot real good," he snorted.

Dean huffed. "You spritz your juice right now and you'll be sorry. Get kicked outta here and back to your OLD parlour."

Sam sobered right up. "OK. Rubber boot, baseball mitt, fugly skunk. That oughta do it," he said. "Dude, just keep your plump tooshie outta my line of eyesight, huh?"

Dean smirked. "You got it, mudz."

Finally, while relaxing after the full-body massage, they were treated to some extra special mud-candy.

"Yum! Chocolate!" Dean yelped. "My favourite freakin' candy."

Luckily for them, the angels had invented chocolate specifically as a totally suitable candy for mud-monkeys. Sam was delighted to be given treats.

"My old master's groomers NEVER gave me candy," he grumbled. "Said I'd git fat. Huh!"

Dean surveyed the big muddie's trim yet powerful physique.

"No need to worry 'bout gittin' fat, mudz," he remarked. "You're WAY sleek."

"Backatcha," Sam returned, with a saucy wink.

TBC

* * *

A/N: So Sam got Dean back but now he's a cheater? Last chapter up tomorrow I hope...


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

* * *

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

A/N: And now the final chapter...

* * *

Hey Babe (Part 5) by frostygossamer

* * *

Still recuperating, his very busy day had tired Dean out. After dinner he took himself upstairs to the linen closet for a five minute nap. He was just getting comfy with his head pillowed on one of Castiel's old sweaters, when the door flew open and Sam came rushing in panting. The big muddie slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, trembling and shaking.

"What the frick? Whassup, mudz?" Dean demanded, switching directly into protect and defend mode. "Flying monkeys? Heffalumps? Giant Gummi Bears? Mailmen? What?"

Sam fought to control his breathing. "Zoom-zoom," he gasped. "Master has the zoom-zoom."

"Freakin' zoom-zoom," Dean scoffed, immediately relaxing. "Dude, the zoom-zoom's NUTHIN'."

Having lived with neat-freak Castiel all his life, Dean was used to the vacuum. Sam, whose owner Gabriel was anything but houseproud, still considered it an unnatural abomination.

"'S nasty," Sam asserted. "Growls all the damn time 'Zum-Zum-Zum' and eats everythin' it freakin' finds."

"The zoom-zoom's Master's juju. 'S not nasty, mudz. Eats dirt and dust bunnies, not muddies," Dean informed him. "Bein' a dumb-ass."

Dean tried to sound blas , even though, like all muddies, he couldn't help but find the vacuum somewhat disturbing himself. Its noise, its vibration and its uncaring ruthlessness made his skin creep. Sam was a little offended that his friend should call him 'dumb-ass' in the face of a very real threat like a zoom-zoom.

"IS nasty!" he insisted. "And 's comin' upstairs right freakin' now!"

Dean twitched. Even HE was a little unnerved by a zoom-zoom actually coming AT him. But he knew he had to appear strong for his Beta. That was what being an Alpha was all about.

"Ifn we keep the door shut REAL freakin' tight and be REAL freakin' quiet, the zoom-zoom's not gonna know we're in here," he reasoned.

He joined Sam leaning up against the door. Sam nudged up against him.

"Dude, 's OK," Dean assured his friend. "We're gonna be FINE in here."

Sam felt a little better with Dean at his side. Safety in numbers. "Yep," he agreed, hopefully.

So they held their breaths and waited unmoving until they heard the sound of the offending machine retreat back downstairs. When they heard the growling finally switched off, they shared a relieved sigh.

"Gone," Dean pronounced, sliding to the floor.

"Good," Sam said firmly, trying to sound like he hadn't been terrified a minute ago.

Sam's body was still shaking, electricity still coursing through his veins. It felt like he had just been in a fight, a fight with his own fear of the vacuum. Dean wasn't entirely unaffected either.

"Dude, now I'm all shook up inside. Reckon I need me a little fuxy," he suggested. "All strung out. You up?"

Dean pondered for an instant. "Sure," he answered. "Good fuxy'd help me get back to sleep." Like he would have been able to sleep the way he felt anyways.

The smaller muddie was sitting on the floor with his naked back still pressed against the door. Sam crept over and slurped his wet tongue along his friend's member. Little Dean was already trembling with excitement and immediately stood to attention. Sam crawled between Dean's thighs and quickly positioned himself comfortably on Dean's little flagpole. He rode him for a while and then he smirked, tipping up Dean's face and rubbing his nose against his friend's.

"Feel good now, dude," he murmured, relaxing into their rhythm.

Sam had recently discovered that, whenever anything bad occurred around them, a bit of bareback rodeo really helped to take both their minds off of it. His eyes, once big and sorrowful, were betrayed by his tongue peeking lasciviously from the corner of his mouth.

"Mmm," Dean agreed. "Feel WAY good. Always feel freakin' good inside you, mudz."

Sam darted his lips toward Dean, trying to capture a sneaky kiss. Dean flinched away automatically, but his smile soon returned.

"Weird-ass," he admonished playfully, recognizing that Sam had just been through something and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He squeezed his ass and was immediately rewarded by the interesting sensation of Sam spurting deep within him.

"Love it when you call me that," Sam admitted softly, repaying the favour with a couple skillful tugs.

"Weird-ass," Dean repeated, as they collapsed into a comfortable sleepy heap.

~xXx~

A few days later, Castiel opened his front door to find Gabriel dancing on his threshold. He was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't expected the archangel to be back in town for another day.

"Hiya, Cas baby," Gabriel cried. "You pleased to see me? Sure you're pleased to see me. Who wouldn't be? And me with such GREAT news."

"Great news?" Castiel wondered, as the archangel steamed past him into the house. "What great news, Gabe?"

"About Zachariah and his vexatious lawsuit. And about your Deano and his imperilled baubles."

"What?" Castiel asked, confused.

He shut the door and followed his lover into the kitchen, where he found him guzzling the cereal he had just put out for himself. Gabriel waved a piece of paper under his nose.

"Paternity test!" he cried triumphantly. "Dean's illegitimate mud-pup isn't."

"Isn't what?" Castiel queried.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Isn't DEAN's," he emphasized. "The boy's home free. Some other mucky mudder has been sowing his wild oats with Zachariah's pretty. Not your baby."

Castiel felt relief wash over him.

"I knew it. Dean's such a GOOD muddie. I knew he couldn't be to blame," he gasped.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure," Gabriel snickered. "Wouldn't have put it past that horny brute. But... not on THIS occasion."

He grabbed Castiel and planted a smacker on him.

"On THIS occasion we got away with it," he grinned. "AND that douchebag Zachariah got a slap in the kisser. Which has always gotta be good."

Castiel clapped his hands and called their mud-monkeys into the kitchen. They were there in half a second. Calls to the kitchen were NEVER ignored. There could be food involved.

The angel gave Dean a cookie and patted him on the head.

"Looks like I was wrong to doubt you, Dean. You've been a good boy after all. Lisa's mud-pup isn't yours."

Dean only got the 'good boy' out of that. His mouth full of cookie, he conveyed his confusion to Sam with his eyes. Sam was busy trying to fix Castiel with a guilt-inducing stare, intended to elicit a cookie for him too.

When the puppy-dog look eventually worked, Sam took his prize out into the back yard, so they could have some privacy to talk away from angels' ears. His friend padded after him.

Gabriel, who had finished Castiel's cereal and started in on his latte, watched the pets wriggle out through their mud-flap.

"Cas honey," he said. "I just dunno how Father trusts those screwy-ass mud-monkeys to bring about His Kingdom on Earth. I told you they're the hinge pin of his Divine Plan, right? The chessmen on the greatest damn chessboard of all existence?"

"Father knows what he's doing," Castiel maintained. "They're essentially GOOD creatures. Dumb but good."

"Just as well they're dumb," the little archangel chuckled. "If they ever got smarts I reckon they could be dangerous."

~xXx~

Out in the back yard, the two muddies were free to talk over their cookie snacks.

"Well?" Dean prompted, with a mouth full of crumbs.

"Master says you're not gonna be a daddy," Sam interpreted.

"Wha-?!" Dean yelped, dropping his half-eaten cookie. "Was gonna be a daddy?!"

"Nah," Sam replied quickly. "Sounds like the angels reckoned it was YOU got Lisa all pupped-up."

Dean's face cycled through a series of emotions: surprise, disappointment, relief, confusion.

"Lisa was freakin' pupped-up?!" he queried, all innocent. "Since when?"

Sam rolled his eyes and blew his bangs up off of his face. Dean could be a little dense sometimes.

"Since you climbed the back fence, mudz," he explained tetchily. "'S why the starchy-ass angel next door got hisself so mad at you."

"Oh," Dean said, as he retrieved his part cookie, feeling a little dazed by his fast transition to expectant parent and back again. "Figured he was just freakin' nasty."

"He IS nasty," Sam agreed. "And he was freakin' mad with Master about Lisa."

Dean considered. He felt a little irked that anyone would be mad at his precious master. He was very protective of Castiel. He made a mental note to scratch something of Zachariah's or pee on his car sometime.

"So who pupped-up Lisa?" he asked.

"Let's go ask her," Sam suggested, gobbling the last of his cookie as he approached the back yard fence.

"Hi! Lisa! You there?" he called.

There was no one in Zachariah's back yard but, after a moment, their neighbour mudette squeezed her way out through her back door mud-flap looking a mite flustered.

"Whaddya want, boys?" she asked. "Caught me just about to attend to my toilette."

Fancy mud-chick word. Sam decided to just pretend he understood what that was.

"Hi, Lisa, got a question for ya," he explained.

"Fire away," Lisa encouraged, rubbing her bulbous midriff happily.

"You see that pretty round belly of yours? Who made it that way?"

Lisa looked puzzled. "Lisa made it that way, I guess," she answered. "Just kinda grew."

Dean came to stand next to him on tippytoes as Sam rolled his eyes.

Sam tried again. "What we wanna know is, who you been diddled by got you that way, Lisa."

Lisa considered. "Not rightly sure," she replied.

"Was round about the time you made humpy with my Dean," Sam prompted helpfully.

Lisa looked even more confused. "Never made humpy with your Dean," she said. "Dean didn't wanna. Had sumthin' else on his mind."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise. He threw a glance at Dean whose expression was inscrutable.

"Then who?" Sam probed.

"Dunno," Lisa replied blankly.

Apparently the question had never occurred to her. She turned to go back inside then suddenly stopped.

"Oh, yeah. I 'member. Was some gorge-ass freerunner I bumped into in the park. Master was takin' a nap. Big, strong mudder with attitude and a mudly scar over his nose, and a humongous..."

Sam and Dean were both so shocked at the revelation they nearly yelped. They looked at each other.

"That freakin' freeborn!" they both gasped together.

Lisa had been foffed by the quarrelsome MUTT that the two of them had crossed swords with, that battleful day in the Elysian Fields.

"That lousy freakin' mudder!" Dean growled. "Freerunner? He's a freakin' BUM!"

Lisa snorted prettily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I got toilette to attend to," she said politely and squeezed back indoors.

Dean and Sam sat down on the grass dumbstruck for a few minutes.

Then Sam commented, "Guess what goes around comes around, mudz."

"How you figure that, dude?" Dean asked.

"You bite that freakin' wild-ass mudder, he almost gits you fixed's what I mean," Sam explained.

Sam had himself some impressively philosophical thoughts sometimes. He was a very smart muddie.

Dean's eyebrows flew up. "How'd I almost git fixed?" he demanded.

"Nasty neighbour angel wanted Master to git you to the vet, over Lisa," Sam explained.

"Oh." Dean felt faintly alarmed in retrospect.

Sam stretched his long body out on the grass and pondered a bit more, then he had a curious thought.

"So you never poked Lisa, huh?"

"Nope."

Sam felt a huge weight lift from his heart. He had been more than a little cut up that his friend might have been secretly getting too sociable with their alluring neighbour. Somehow it had hurt to think he had to share him with a mud-chick, that HE wasn't enough for Dean.

"So what you doin' sneakin' over the fence into the neighbour's back yard, if it wasn't to git your freak on, dude?" he asked.

Dean's green eyes evaded his shiftily.

"Spill it, mudz!" Sam prodded.

Dean gave a deep sigh. "Dude, just attendin' to my toilette," he paraphrased Lisa.

Yet again Sam wasn't any the wiser. "Don't git that, mudz. What's 'toilette'?"

Dean sighed again and confessed, "Lisa's gotten herself a deluxe litter tray. Big, pink, comfy-ass freakin' thing full of sparkly, good smellin' sand. 'S peachy."

He smiled at the happy memory. Oh, how he missed his own litter tray.

Sam gasped. "You been climbin' the fence to sneak your poop into Lisa's sand box? That's not even funny!"

Dean looked away, embarrassed.

"Well, nobody asked ME ifn I wanned Master to trash MINE," he grumbled self-righteously. "HATE poopin' in the back yard. 'S undignified."

Sam had to laugh. In fact Sam had to roll on the ground clutching his belly.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! 'S hilarious," he gasped, though tears of joy. "Prissy-ass Zachariah's been takin' out your poop all this time. 'S classic!"

Dean started to chuckle along.

"Yeah," he agreed. "'S cool."

~xXx~

Late that night, as the boys lay curled up together in their basket, Sam broached a subject that had been worrying him since he had first overheard Zachariah's accusations about Dean's encroachments into enemy territory.

He licked at Dean's ear to get his attention.

"Dude, you like mud-chicks?" he asked.

"Sure. Mud-chicks are good," Dean agreed, sleepily.

Sam whimpered and pulled Dean closer against his chest.

"You like mudettes more than Sam?" Sam probed nervously.

Dean tucked his chin into Sam's broad shoulder and pondered for a moment.

"You give better sucky," he said. "Chicks can bite. Cos they dunno how much it hurts. Plus they don't give pokey. Like me some pokey."

He wrapped his arms around Sam's hips, rubbing up against him.

"Like Sam a whole lot," he murmured into his friend's shoulder. "You're comfy... and freakin' big... everyplace."

Sam let a pleased smile warm his face.

"Good," he pronounced. "Like you WAY better than any chick I met, mudz."

After a couple minutes silence, Sam spoke again, "Dude, you even know what 'love' means?"

Dean forced his sleep-fuddled eyes to focus. "Sure I do," he asserted.

He wasn't some doofus, now was he? It wasn't a hard word to know. His master, Castiel, used it ALL the time. It was something to do with good things like food, warmth and touching. He grinned and stretched his arms wide in an embracing gesture.

"C'mon here and gimme kiss-kiss," he commanded.

Sam bobbed forward and found his friends lips with his own. They kissed tonsil-deep for a whole minute, then Sam straightened up again.

"THERE," Dean declared. "You're my kiss-kiss-muddie. 'S what you are. And that's 'love' right there, mudz."

Sam considered. "Sharing your bowl, your hole and your soul, 's love. I guess sharing kiss-kiss, 's love too."

Sam could be a super-deep philosophical mud-monkey at times.

Dean marvelled at Sam's wisdom. "Mudz, you're smart," he praised him.

Sam beamed proudly, feeling a delightful warmth surging up inside him at his Alpha's compliment.

"Like you way better than any mud-chick ever," he declared.

Dean chuckled. "'S cos I let you do freakin' kinky stuff, like kiss-kiss," he suggested.

He kissed the big muddie again full on the lips, moaning softly.

Sam growled. "You give REAL good mouth," he murmured. "Hot-smexy-lips."

He pulled the soft mock-tiger faux-fur blanket that was under his back over the two of them, so that it covered both their naked bodies and they were wrapped up inside it together. Dean wriggled a little, missing the night air on his bare skin.

"Dean, shush," Sam whispered. "Lay still, mudz. Lemme ninety-nine you this way."

Liking the sound of it, Dean stopped struggling and lay quiet, as Sam shifted position so they could spoon. Sam raised Dean's knee gently with his left hand, and ran an invisible right thumb over his expectant rear entrance.

"Know my way by touch," he purred into Dean's ear.

Dean gasped as the sudden realization hit him. His friend Sam was a PERVERT! The big muddie was into ALL kinds of deviant stuff, like kiss-kiss, and now sex-under-a-blanket!

Now mud-monkey sex was meant to be a social convention, something done out of politeness or necessity, in public, all honest and aboveboard. Sex in a quiet place, like among the bushes in the park, wasn't so bad. Even sex in the linen closet wasn't too sneaky, just practical. But sex performed under a blanket? That was terribly naughty, inappropriate and utterly un-mudlike! Only ANGELS did stuff like that!

Dean wondered wildly if he should report this behaviour to his master.

But then there was that luscious sensation of Sam's spit-slippery dibber stealthily sliding into his welcoming hole beneath a fluffy covering of wool, and Dean's doubts vanished. Sam pervy felt good. He could live with a pervy Sam.

For the first time in Dean's life he experienced coming under cover. It felt wonderfully dirty.

"Dude, you're a fork fiend," Dean hissed. "You know that?"

Sam chuckled. "Mudz, you freakin' LOVE it," he hissed back.

Dean had no answer to that. Because he so did.

~xXx~

Everything should have been fine except Dean still had a problem that prevented him living a totally carefree life. There were just some things he couldn't ever accept. Like outdoor dumping.

"So wish I had back my litter tray, mudz," he whined one day, returning from a little trip into the shrubbery.

Sam, laying on the hearthrug, raised himself on one elbow and thought a bit.

"You were goin' 'bout it the wrong way, mudz," he said. "Never gonna git yourself a litter box just by poopin' at Lisa's."

Dean grumbled to himself. "'S freakin' unfair."

"What you gotta do is force Master's hand. That's what you gotta do," Sam suggested archly.

Dean looked puzzled. "Like how?" he demanded.

"Poop on the damn rug!" his friend declared.

Dean's expression changed to one of shocked disgust.

"Ugh!" he groaned. "Dude, not some untrained mud-pup anymore," he said. "This muddie's properly HOUSEBROKEN. NEVER poop on the floor."

"Ah," Sam responded. "But you gotta SHOW Master. Gotta SHOW him you NEED a tray. Only way."

Dean considered that a while, but then he shook his head violently.

"Nope, mudz. No way," he said. "Can't freakin' do it."

Sam rolled his eyes. He had given Dean his advice and the stubborn mudder refused to take it. What could he do?

"Hmm, got a plan," he said mysteriously.

~xXx~

Next morning Dean found out exactly what he had been planning.

"What in...?" cried Castiel, hopping on one leg as he examined his slipper.

He had just stepped in something warm and squishy in the corner of the room, where Dean's litter box generally used to stand. The two muddies ran in at the sound of their master calling.

"Dean?! Are you responsible for this?" the angel demanded.

Sam glared pointedly at Dean who shot him daggers.

"Me?! Nah!" Dean growled under his breath.

Sam went and sat at Castiel's feet, his face a picture of innocence.

"Well, I know it wouldn't be your fault, Sam," Castiel said, patting Sam on the head. He knew Sam was an inveterate alfresco pooper. "Dean, I'm ashamed of you." He wagged a finger at his incriminated pet.

Dean looked righteously indignant. "Nuh-uh!" he grunted, as Sam snickered from between Castiel's legs.

Castiel sighed as he went to get something to clean up the mess. Returning with disinfectant and a bucket and scrub brush, he got down on his knees and started to scrub.

"I guess if you're going to have problems staying clean I'm going to have to get you another tray, huh?" he mumbled as he scrubbed.

Sam grinned widely. "Result!" he yelped. Dean was far from happy.

"You wanned a new sandbox, mudz," Sam pointed out.

"Didn't need a rep as a poop-artist," Dean retorted.

Sam laughed. "Sometimes to git what you want you gotta make sacrifices," he said wisely.

Dean snorted and walked away. "Guess I know what YOU're gonna be sacrificing tonight," he smirked.

"Uh?" Sam gulped.

It looked like conjugal visitation was going to be withheld until Dean forgave him.

Dean did forgive him, eventually.

~xXx~

In due time Lisa's mud-pup was born, an event apprehensively awaited by her master, tensely by Castiel, gleefully by Gabriel and interestedly by her two muddie neighbours.

When the time of her birthing finally arrived, Lisa was whisked off by Zachariah to the vet's plush delivery facilities, for a supervised confinement. There would be no pile of old towels and newspaper on the kitchen floor for Zachariah's darling.

The tiny mud-puppy was as pink and as cute as any infant creature could be. Almost cherubic in its adorable helplessness, it clung to Lisa's bosom. Overnight, the silly, immature mudette instinctively transformed into the very image of maternal wisdom.

Dean and Sam knew nothing of all this until Lisa reappeared in her back yard, nursing the little scamp.

"Hey, look!" yelled Sam, glimpsing the small, swaddled butt from over the fence. "Lisa's squeezed out her munchkin."

Dean clambered through the kitchen mud-flap and trotted across, keen to see the new arrival. Dean totally adored munchkins.

"Show me!" he yelped eagerly.

Lisa lifted the infant high to show it off to her friends.

"Ooh, it's a FAT one," Sam complimented her.

"Uh-huh," Dean agreed. "Looks like a rosy-ass little son-of-a-mudder, huh?"

Lisa grinned proudly. "It's kinda fugly," she chuckled. "But it sure knows how to yowl."

"Kinda like its daddy," Sam remarked dryly. "So. What sort is it? Mudly or mudette?"

Lisa turned the bundle over and checked out its underside.

"Looks like it's a he," she answered. "Sure SOUNDS like it's a he too."

Sam and Dean ignored that pointed denigration of their gender.

"Your master given it a name yet?" Dean queried, expecting the fancy-pants angel would have chosen some sniffy moniker like Beauregard or Montmorency.

"Master likes to call it 'Ben'," Lisa answered.

"Good name," Dean declared. "Nice short name like me and Sam, good for yellin' in the park."

"Too little for the park," Lisa returned sharply. "Could git hurt, playin' with the big mudders."

"Don't worry," Dean assured her. "Me and Sam'll take care of little Ben. Make sure no one's cruel to him or hurts him. Promise."

Lisa smiled back. "You're such a good muddie, Dean," she said. "Trust you to take care of my munchkin. Just so long as YOU don't push him around."

"Never," Dean swore. "Never hurt a mud-pup, ever."

Sam looked on amd smiled. He loved to see his Dean so happy. Maybe pet-muds, like they were, weren't going to get to breed, but at least they would get to be playmate and guard-mud to other little mud-fry. He could tell Dean was going to enjoy playing adopted sire to the new little tyke, and what made Dean happy made Sam happy too.

Yes, life in Holy City was perfectly peachy.

THE END

* * *

A/N: That's it for this time. Hope you enjoyed the story. I may revisit the Walkies-verse again sometime so watch out.

In the meantime remember I tweet gen one-line and mini-fic on Twitter. If you tweet please do follow me. My twitter account is frostygossamer. If you're not on Twitter then why not? It's free and you already know one person to follow, and I'll follow you back.

And a MERRY CHRISTMAS to you!


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